


only five minutes more; let me stay in your arms

by evanstans (sorrylovebut)



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: 1940s, First Dance, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Love Confessions, M/M, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 01:13:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2005329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorrylovebut/pseuds/evanstans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Y'know Buck, I still don't know how to dance.”</p>
<p>“Well c'mere then, I'll teach ya. Last night and all.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	only five minutes more; let me stay in your arms

**Author's Note:**

> so this started off as a series of tweets and then it turned into this. i am not sorry.
> 
> title taken from five minutes more by frank sinatra; i highly recommend listening to either before you read, or after you read it. it's a beautiful song, and it describes them perfectly in this fic.
> 
> feel free to come talk to me @starkbucky on twitter!
> 
> oh btw des, if you're reading this, you are so beyond on, you're gonna have no idea what hit you tomorrow.
> 
> all mistakes are mine and i own nothing!

“Y'know Buck, I still don't know how to dance.”

Steve can’t bring himself to regret the words once they’re out of his mouth. Bucky stops doing the dishes, looking at Steve as Steve looks up from his sketchbook. He takes in the way Bucky’s hair is still tousled from working down at the docks all day, and the way he has his sleeves rolled up around his elbows, muscles flexes as he scrubs at the plates. He gives Steve a soft smile, setting the rag and dishes down, grabbing a towel from the counter to dry his hands off. He walks into the living room, and crosses over to the other wall opposite Steve, and flicks on the record player. Steve swallows hard, letting out a nervous laugh. Bucky looks back at him as he puts on their Frank Sinatra record, and oh god, Steve is going to die.

“Well c'mere then, I'll teach ya. Last night and all.”

“I didn’t mean you had to-” Steve starts, but then Bucky looks at him, and there’s something untraceable there, and Bucky is holding out his hand, and Steve takes it without question.

Bucky grins, and pulls Steve up from the couch. Steve goes willingly, and when Bucky’s arms wrap around his waist, Steve’s pulse skyrockets. His heart is rabbiting unevenly against his ribcage, but as Bucky takes one of his hands, linking their fingers together, Steve thinks this would be a pretty decent way to die. Frank’s voice fills their little living room, and it feels so much like coming  _home_ , Steve’s heart aches.

“M’scared, Buck,” Steve says quietly. Bucky holds Steve’s hand tighter, and lets his eyes slip shut, because this is what  _he’s_ scared of. “I’m gonna get there with you, they can’t just- they can’t just take you away from me like this,” Steve says, and Bucky can’t do anything but give a shuddery sigh, and pull his waist even closer.

“Oh, Stevie, what're ya gonna do without me?” Bucky says after another minute, because he can’t think of anything else. He adjusts their positioning, wrapping Steve’s arms around his neck so he can fit his own arms around Steve’s waist, pulling him in close enough that their chests are pressed together. Steve wraps his arms around Bucky’s neck even tighter, fighting the urge to press his face against Bucky’s neck and kiss the skin there.

“Honestly, Bucky? I've got no idea,” Steve says honestly, and Bucky hums, pressing his cheek against the top of Steve’s head.

“You'll figure it out; ya always do. You’re the smart one, ‘member? I just know how to throw punches,” Bucky says, and Steve wants to scream.

“It’s- this is different.”

“How's it different?” Bucky asks, voice steady, and Steve doesn’t know if he wants to punch him or kiss him.

“You're going off to  _war_ , Bucky, and I just wish I could-” Steve says, utterly exasperated.

“Steve,” Bucky warns, and Steve sighs, withdrawing a bit from Bucky hold.

 “Sorry.”

“Don't be,” Bucky says gently, pulling Steve back to him, swaying them back and forth. Steve gives in to the urge, and presses his face against Bucky's collarbone. Bucky’s breath hitches but he doesn’t pull away, and Steve takes that as a good sign.

“M'gonna miss you,” Steve says, feeling out of breath. Bucky feels the sting of hot tears burning at the back of his eyes, but he tries to blink them away.

 “I know,” Bucky says quietly. “God, I know. I don't wanna leave you, Steve.”

“Then don't?” Steve offers quietly, and Bucky closes his eyes. His chest feels like it’s being split open, his hear being ripped apart, and all he wants is to  _stay._ He hates the idea of Steve being scared, of anybody or anything, and there’s no way in hell Bucky’ll be able to be a decent soldier when he’s only ever been capable of protecting one thing.

 “I've gotta,” Bucky says, tightening his grip on Steve's waist. “The draft's a son of a bitch.”

“Bucky, I think I'm in love with you.” Steve chokes on the words, because he can’t hold them in anymore, and it’s their last night together, and he just can’t do it. If Bucky hates him now, he’ll take the beating, and then Bucky’ll go off to war, and never come back home to Steve, and Bucky will learn how to live without him.

 Bucky stops short, though, breath leaving his lungs like he’s just gotten a good kick to the stomach, and Steve can't breathe either, can't do anything but try swallow back the other words threatening to slip out.

“Bucky, I-”

 “Don't, I- it's okay,” Bucky breathes, fighting back a laugh. His head is swimming and it's “God, Steve, it's more than okay, it's-”

 And then Bucky picks him up and fucking spins him around, and God, Steve would so skin him if he was just a little bit bigger; stronger. For now though, all he can do is hold on tightly, and fight the urge to wrap his legs around Bucky’s waist and push him down to the couch.

Soon enough,  Steve is back on his own two feet with Bucky's hands cupping his face and Steve's arms around his neck, and they just stare for a second. Bucky’s tongue comes out to wet his lips, and Steve tightens his grip on Bucky’s neck to steady himself, eyes flickering between Bucky’s eyes and his lips, and he can’t figure out which one he wants to focus on more. 

He feels dizzy, kinda like he felt after he had followed after Bucky one night; followed after him to one of his bars. One of the ones where they were rooms in the back where boys could cram themselves all too closely together in the booths, letting hands and tongues and lips wander where they couldn’t outside in the world. He remembers the look on Bucky’s face, remembers the way Bucky took the drinks they offered him and when they took him to the dance floor the way he moved back against them; the way he wanted, so unabashedly. Steve has fought hard to look away, standing in the corner away from all of the action and out of Bucky’s sight, but all he could focus on was the way Bucky gripped them, their hair, their asses, their shoulders, anything he could get his hands on. He remembers running away when Bucky let himself be pressed face first against the wall by a boy all too taller than him, remembers thinking  _oh, of course he would want someone like that, bigger, stronger, someone able to pin him down and just make him take-_

But none of that even comes close to mattering in this moment, because Bucky is looking at him like Steve’s the only thing keeping him on his feet, and then Bucky's tilting his head down and oh  _God_ their lips are pressing together, Bucky holding his face gently between his hands. They stand there in the middle of their too small apartment, and everything else seems to completely fade away as Bucky holds Steve in his arms and kisses him like there won’t ever be anyone else.

  It doesnt matter that Bucky's leaving in the morning because this night is theirs, and Steve knows no one will ever be able to take it away.

Steve falls into Bucky’s bed that night, presses himself up tight against him, their bodies fitting together perfectly. Bucky wakes up first, pressing his face against Steve’s chest and holding him there tightly. Steve just lets him take the comfort he needs, petting his hair and pressing soft kisses to his forehead. Bucky's hands push up under the back of Steve's shirt cool hands finding warm, pale skin, and Steve shudders when Bucky rolls them over, covering Steve's body with his own. His whispers out a  _let me do this for you,_ and Steve can't say no. His throat closes up when Bucky leans down to kiss him again, bracketing Steve's thighs with his own, grinding down and swallowing up the little whimpers that escape his lips as Steve hardens up against Bucky's own lap. Bucky gets impatient though, and he pushes his hand into Steve's underwear, spitting into his hand and bringing him off hard and fast. When Steve's orgasm finally hits he all but shout, blunt nails digging into Bucky's shoulders. Steve rides it out, pressing into Bucky's hand and snaking his own palm down into Bucky's own pants, kissing him hard as Bucky comes with a cry of Steve's name, punching the mattress besides Steve's head.

"Oh god," Bucky whispers, like he can't do anything else, and Steve just pulls him down against his chest, letting Bucky tuck his head into the comforting space of Steve's neck.

Bucky doesn’t really ever cry, but he shakes like he is, chest heaving where it’s pressed against Steve’s own.

“It’s just- you’re my best thing, Steve. I don’t wanna leave my best thing,” Bucky admits, and Steve just kisses him, because for once in his life, he doesn’t have words of comfort, or even understanding.

“Then you just gotta wait for me to get over there, okay? They won't separate us that easy,” Steve says and Bucky lets out a breathy little laugh, chasing Steve’s lips again.

“I love you, Steve,” Bucky says, and Steve smiles, strokes his thumb over Bucky’s cheekbone. Bucky sighs into the touch, eyes locking with Steve's own. Steve gives him the most reassuring smile he can muster in the face of oblivion.

“Love you too, Buck. Always have, always will.”

 


End file.
